


Peacock

by yet_another_coincidence (orphan_account)



Category: GP2 RPF
Genre: M/M, Some Fluff, alex is an ass, artem is cute and should be protected, jordan is also an ass, mitch is a peacock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 13:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8058001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/yet_another_coincidence
Summary: “I bet i could get anyone in the paddock to sleep with me.” Alex wanted to punch the smug look off of the shorter driver’s face. Instead, he smiled back.“You think?” Alex took a sip of his cocktail. Mitch finished his own drink and motioned for the barman to get him another. “I’m willing to bet money on it.” Mitch sounded so sure of himself. Alex smiled devilishly. “Bet you £60 you can’t get King to sleep with you.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [princessrosberg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessrosberg/gifts).



> A birthday fic for my side bitch.

“Mitch you absolute peacock.” Alex hissed as Mitch winked at a group of girls on the other side of the bar. Mitch turned to him with a lopsided grin on his face. Alex pressed his lips together, he really had no idea how Mitch could pull off that effortless charisma. 

“Jealous?” Mitch asked teasingly, taking another swig of his beer. Alex made a small huffing sound, glancing at the girls who were still staring at Mitch and giggling. The Kiwi as as oblivious as ever. 

“Hardly…” Alex muttered, swishing around the drink in his glass. Mitch raised an eyebrow at him. 

He waved at the girls again and they turned away, giggling and blushing.

“I bet i could get anyone in the paddock to sleep with me.” Alex wanted to punch the smug look off of the shorter driver’s face. Instead, he smiled back.

“You think?” Alex took a sip of his cocktail. Mitch finished his own drink and motioned for the barman to get him another. 

“I’m willing to bet money on it.” Mitch sounded so sure of himself. Alex smiled devilishly. 

“Bet you £60 you can’t get King to sleep with you.” Mitch’s smile disappeared in an instant. He gaped at Alex for a second, stuttering to find words as if all the wind had been knocked out of him.

“You’d do that to me?” He asked. “Jordan Fucking King? He’s a bitch, that’s not fair.” Mitch folded his arms over his chest. Alex smirked on, downing his drink and slapping a £10 note on the bar.

“Take it or leave it.” He stated, moving away from the Kiwi and presumably going in search of his own sleeping buddy. Mitch knew he’d probably end up with Pierre again.

Mitch glared at his drink, watching his own pouting reflection. Of course Alex would bet him to sleep with King. Mitch fucking hated the guy but Alex knew he’d never turn down a bet with the Brit. 

He was dragged from his thoughts when Artem sat down next to him, the Russian lingering just on the edge of Mitch’s personal space. 

“Hi!” Artem breathed, smiling widely at Mitch. Mitch did his best to smile back. Artem shifted in his seat, running a hand through his hair and giving Mitch a good view of his tattoos. Mitch said nothing.

“So?” Artem started, learning closer with a smile on his face. He looked at Mitch expectantly.

“So what?” Mitch asked, the words coming out slightly sharper than he meant. While he liked the Russian driver immensely, he wasn’t really in the mood to talk. Artem seemed to sense this and looked down.

“I was just wondering what your plans were for this evening.” The taller driver sounded hurt, his voice hollow. Mitch opened his mouth to speak but was distracted when Jordan King collapsed onto the bar stool on Mitch’s other side, a face like thunder. 

Mitch looked back and forth between Jordan and Artem for a second before the Russian looked at his hands, shoulders sagging slightly. Mitch hadn’t meant to offend Artem but the shorter driver really needed to win this bet. He swiveled on his stool to face the Brit, considering him for a moment and deciding what angle to play this from.

“Rough day?” Mitch asked, slurring his words slightly to give Jordan the impression he was a little drink. Jordan looked surprised that Mitch was even talking to him for a second before his face turned into a glare.

“Fuck off Evans.” He snapped, ordering something strong from the barman. Mitch swayed on his stool, taking a swing out of his own drink and moving closer. He threw an arm around Jordan and gave a small chuckle when the Brit became tense. 

“Maybe i can make you feel better?” Mitch breathed in his ear, feeling Jordan go even stiller against him. 

“Depends on what you had in mind…” Jordan’s voice was small but his body is still tense. Mitch sighed inwardly.

“I want you to fuck me.” Mitch murmured, moving his hand and adjusting a strand of his hair. 

He felt Artem get up and leave behind him, the Russian making very little noise and not saying goodbye. Mitch inwardly kicked himself for snapping at Artem earlier but kept his attention in Jordan.

“Why me?” Jordan whispered, body still tense as he stared at his drink. Mitch giggled in his ear, internally vomiting at how close he was to the other driver.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me…” He murmured, lips dangerously close to Jordan’s ear. The Brit blushed and Mitch giggled again. “Let's get out of here.”

That seemed to spur Jordan into action. He swallowed thickly and dug out some money from his pocket to pay the barman. When he looked at Mitch, his eyes were almost completely dilated.

“After you.” Mitch motioned, swaying slightly with a smirk on his lips. 

Jordan was almost jogging as he went out of the bar and into the hotel lobby, Mitch’s short legs struggling to keep up. He didn’t check to see if the Kiwi was still there until he’d pressed the button for the elevator. 

He still regarded Mitch with caution, but the shorter driver could see the definite bulge in his trousers. He grinned back at the Brit, biting at his bottom lip. Jordan swallowed again thickly and looked down. 

As soon as the elevator doors had opened, Jordan pulled him inside, pressing the smaller driver against the wall and kissing him demandingly. Mitch moaned into the kiss, even though he’d rather be anywhere but here. He shifted his hips slightly, rubbing himself against the Brit. 

Jordan groaned as the elevator doors pinged shut behind them, biting at Mitch’s lip before attaching his mouth to the Kiwi’s neck. Mitch made out a choked sound, moaning quietly as he opened his eyes. 

He stopped moaning abruptly when he noticed Artem on the other side of the elevator, eyes wide and filled with tears. He stilled against Jordan and pushed the Brit away slightly. Jordan made an irritated sound before following Mitch’s gaze. 

The three of them stared at each other before the elevator doors pinged open and Artem fled into the corridor. 

“Now that he’s gone…” Jordan muttered, sliding a hand up Mitch’s chest and moving to kiss at his neck. Mitch slapped his hands away irritably, pushing the Brit away with a snarl.

“Fuck off you bag of dicks!” Mitch snapped, exiting the elevator and putting his middle finger up to Jordan as the elevator doors began to close. 

He knocked on Artem’s door. 

“Mate let’s talk about this…” He pleaded, trying to get the image of the crying Russian out of his head. There was no reply for a long time before Artem answered him.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Artem’s voice was shaking and Mitch almost died of guilt. “You’re allowed to kiss whoever you want.” He could hear Artem hyperventilating from the other side of the door.

“Let me in.” Mitch murmured, pressing his forehead against the door. He removed it again when he heard the door handle click. 

Artem’s eyes were bloodshot and cheeks already red with tears. He sniffed slightly as Mitch opened the door wider and pushed himself in, guiding Artem in with him.

Mitch sat on the bed before patting the space beside him. Artem looked at the Kiwi cautiously before moving to sit as far away from Mitch as possible. He stared at his hands.

“Why are you crying?” Mitch tried. Artem only shook his head and sniffed again. Mitch sighed and moved closer to the Russian. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders and encouraged Artem to rest his head on his shoulder. 

He rubbed Artem’s back for several minutes, waiting until Artem was no longer shaking and tears were no longer falling down his face. The taller driver pressed his face into Mitch’s neck, sobbing again when he felt the bite marks that Jordan had left earlier. 

Mitch hugged the Russian tighter, pulling him half onto his lap and stroking his hair with his other hand. “Hey…” He breathed, pressing his lips to Artem’s head. “I can’t help you unless you tell me…”

He felt Artem exhale against him, the Russian shaking his head slightly. That’s ok. Mitch thought. He’d gladly wait all evening for his friend. 

Thinking that that might be the case, Mitch guided them so he was propped up with pillows, Artem lying half on top of him with his head on the Kiwi’s chest. He continued his earlier movements of carding his hand through Artem’s hair, not pressing the Russian to speak until he was ready. He traced Artem’s tattoos with his other hand.

“I love you…” Artem whispered against Mitch’s chest after several minutes. Mitch’s hands stopped moving as Artem held his breath. No one said anything for a good few moments and Artem was beginning to think Mitch hadn’t heard him.

“I…” Mitch started, hand in Artem’s hair moving again. “I love you too.” He stated, more sure of himself. 

He pulled on Artem’s hair slightly, prompting the Russian to look up at him. Artem’s eyes were large and his cheeks were still tear stained. Mitch felt a pang of guilt as he brushed a thumb over his cheeks, learning in slightly and brushing his lips over Artem’s.

Artem melted into the kiss, becoming a deadweight on Mitch’s chest. He drew in a breath, as if only Mitch was keeping him alive as he clung to the shorter Kiwi. 

He pulled back and Artem smiled shyly at him. 

 

He paid Alex £60 the next morning and for once didn’t mind the smug look on the Brit’s face.


End file.
